


Remus(e)

by smolbeandean



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Artist!Sirius, M/M, bookstore owner!remus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 19:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7586737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolbeandean/pseuds/smolbeandean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was hard finding an inspiration in a world where nothing gave you that certain spark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remus(e)

Being an artist was easy when you're in a setting surrounded by marvelous sights and numerous inspirations that provided you with a rich rainbow of colors or a dark grays and blacks on a canvas. It was easy when you had everything at your expanse: the utensils, the muses, and the motivation to keep you going and to make you finish the project at hand.

What made it difficult was finding the right muse that fit you, that allowed you to create your own pattern as to what you relayed onto the canvas, and he had a hard time finding just what made him spark inside.

Sirius Black wasn't famous by all means, though his art was recognized by those in the immediate neighborhood and to the edges of London, as well. He was no Picasso or DaVinci, but it was enough to get by with a small house surrounded by a small, white picket fence, the iconic symbol of one who owned a happy home and had a happy life.

And a happy life, did he own, which only increased in emotion when he managed to snag home the possible boy of his dreams, Remus Lupin, also known as the owner of the little bookshop down the road. How Sirius ever managed to score such an incredible person and be able to bring him home was still unbelievable, but he decided not to question it and let it be.

Having someone move into his home a few months later left both dealing with a great amount of maintaining privacy and setting lines and rules as to what was shared and what should not be touched. Needless to say, both had secrets of their own that they weren't entirely comfortable with - Sirius' being something mortifying, similar to a guilty pleasure, if you will - and were willing to obey the rule, even if they never vocalized it.

He wouldn't lie and say Remus didn't provide some sort of energy within him - in more ways than one -, though the one he was in the right state of mind was provided him with much more adrenaline, somehow. It was the spark that he needed that he wasn't going to get from a shabby tree or a dying scenery. He was going to get it from this man, instead, and it wouldn't be the same in the best way.

The first time he gave into these sparks was in the early morning, in which he was awoken by the shrill tweets of the magpies outside that had now, thankfully, stopped. Unfortunately, it caused him to remain awake, the drowsy feeling disappearing by the second. Bored out of his mind and not wanting to leave Remus in bed, he pulled out his sketchbook from under the bed; he had barely any time that night to realize they were heading towards his room - not that he could do anything to stop it, of course.

The leather bound book felt oddly cool under his hands, as if he hadn't used it in such a long time, which was probably accurate. When he had a man under his arm to love and cherish daily, he barely had time to retreat to his sketchbook nowadays. Now, however, there was just this urge in his belly, something telling him that this was indeed a good idea and that it would all go to plan. Remus was already a masterpiece and Sirius wanted to relay that onto a canvas at some point.

He reached under his bed and pulled out a stray pencil - there seemed to be a lot of those scattered throughout his room and the rest of the house - and rolled his eyes. The pencil, of course, had to be a soft hue of brown, the almost identical shade of brown that belonged to Remus' hair.

As Sirius opened the journal, he froze as Remus shifted beside him, rolling onto his back. Making sure the man wasn't awake, Sirius waited for a few moments, taking his time in studying his boyfriend's calm expression, the pounding in his heart becoming more prominent with each second. He finally looked away, turning to his sketchbook instead and flipping to a blank page.

Sketching Remus' body and face was the most intense yet exciting thing he had done in a while. He was filled with so many different emotions, now having a purpose to studying such intricate and beautiful features besides for his own pleasure.

Now, this was something completely different from drawing the London Eye or Big Ben, even. It was entirely surreal, as if he wanted to pour his heart and soul into this one piece and make it count and, for the life of him, he tried to accomplish that same feeling in the limited time he had to do so.

What felt like hours later but, when he checked the digital clock, was actually only one, he managed to complete the drawing and, satisfied with how it turned out, decided to leave it be and slid both the notebook and pen underneath his bed. He didn't go back to sleep, the adrenaline still rushing throughout him. So, he decided to wake up Remus in the best way possible - by going under the covers.

»•«

"So why exactly am I doing this?"

Sirius sighed, setting down his ceramic plate, containing dollops of different colors of paints, on the circular desk beside him. "It's an... Experiment," he decided. That was partially true. It was some sort of test to decide whether Remus was the best muse Sirius could ever manage to obtain or if he was just going completely bonkers that morning. Nonetheless, he did not ever want to admit that he had done the aforementioned thing and would much rather keep it silent and as vague as possible.

Remus, however, stared at him quizzically with an upturned eyebrow. "An... Experiment," he repeated, though the end resembled more of a question than an actual statement. He was sat on an extremely dated an vintage chair Sirius owned, a "gift" from his deceased mother, and one he planned on getting rid of soon. However, it could, for once, prove useful for this one photo. His legs were crossed, arms laid on the rests beside him.

"Yes." Sirius smiled as innocently as he could, though, knowing him, it didn't work. Remus frowned, but it was too late as Sirius exclaimed "Maintain position!" and Remus, going completely against his own will, mind you, rolled his eyes and "maintained position", which was crossed arms, spread legs, and the most narcissistic expression that Remus Lupin could ever bear. It fit, but it didn't at the same time.

Sirius could get high off of it, if he wanted.

With gentle strokes, the mixing of so many shades of brown, and repetitive bored grunts coming from Remus, Sirius finished the painting in what felt like record time. There was so much energy pulsing through him, he was surprised he hadn't fucked up the painting by smudging the canvas or anything of the sort.

He was pleased, both with the result of the masterpiece and with the person the portrait portrayed. Stepping back from the easel and to his boyfriend, who showed an expression that displayed a large amount of relief. He, surprisingly, was welcomed with open arms, if that term counted with being pulled into Remus' lap and being caressed even when there was splattered across his hands.

"Did the experiment work?"

Sirius nodded slightly, the portrait behind his eyes each time he blinked. "I'd like to say it provided enough evidence to support the hypothesis."

There was a light chuckle in the air before it fell silent. However, Sirius' mind was anything but silent, as so many thoughts and plans and ideas were spilling from one end to the other.

»•«

They were drunk off of many flasks of whiskeys strewn about the house - antiques, even. Therefore, what better thing to do than draw his absolute most favorite person in the world?

It had been a while since Sirius had drawn anything regarding Remus and it made him upset to think about the large amounts of sketches of random flower pots and kitchen layouts in his sketchbook compared to the things he had drawn or painted of Remus, which landed at a solid two. Nonetheless, he was feeling needy and what better way to put that to use than draw?

He raced to his room, ignoring Remus and his entire existence for a few seconds, and grabbed his sketchbook and a random pencil, not bothering to check the color, and went back to the sitting room. He plopped himself on the same vintage chair from weeks ago and eyed Remus with as much intensity as possible, causing the other man to flush.

It didn't take as long like the others, but it did deal a lengthy amount of time. The sketch was hurried, but still provided him with so much joy, even in his drunken state.

He wasn't going to lie to himself - he very much did enjoy drawing Remus Lupin and would because it was the concept of him that filled his heart with adrenaline and a sense of inspiration. Sirius looked up from the finished piece, deciding that he was happy with his new muse and nothing else would satisfy him further.


End file.
